It's How You Play the Game
by Luminol
Summary: A slow night at the crime lab can only mean one thing...
1. It's How You Play the Game

Title: It's How You Play the Game  
  
Author: Rory  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Archival: Please don't!  
  
Disclaimers: The characters in this story belong to their respected owners and not to me. ~Sighs~ I make no profit from this.  
  
Author's Note: First of all, I am not a video game girl. If 'Grand Turismo' is not a racing game for PS2, please forgive me. G Also, this story hasn't been edited. Any mistakes are to be blamed upon me and 'The Beast' (my computer).  
  
  
  
Nick dropped the controller in defeat. He was alone in the break room, attempting to play a video game by himself. It was a slow night, and surprisingly the crime lab had only been assigned a simple suicide that Warrick and Catherine had covered. The case was obvious, but the two CSIs still managed to keep Greg tied up in the lab.  
  
Nick sighed. Grand Turismo just wasn't the same without Warrick's taunting or Greg's teasing.  
  
The lonely man looked up as Sara entered the room. The tall brunette tossed a manila file folder bursting with papers on the table and poured herself a cup of coffee.  
  
"Hey Sara," addressed Nick. "You busy?"  
  
"Who isn't? I swear we've killed half a forest just for all this damn paper work."  
  
"You wanna take a break?"  
  
Sara studied her friend and asked with a raised eyebrow, "What exactly did you have in mind?"  
  
Nick chuckled. "Keep your mind out of the gutter, Sidle. I just wanted to know if you're up for a racing game."  
  
Sara looked stunned. "You're kidding, right? I don't know about you, Nick, but I get paid to do my job." She spoke slowly, as if she were talking to a small child.  
  
"Your job's to solve crimes, and there aren't any of those right now, are there? So what so you say, Sidle? Are you too scared?"  
  
Nick was the brother Sara never had. The fact that he was trying to intimidate her caused her to laugh.  
  
"Alright, Stokes. You're on!"  
  
Sara pulled up a chair and sat beside her friend. She waited for him to start the game, but he simply looked at her.  
  
"What do you want to play for?" asked Nick.  
  
"What do you mean?" questioned Sara.  
  
"I don't want to cream you just for the fun of it, Sidle. It has to be worthwhile. If you lose, you have to flirt with Grissom until he notices."  
  
Sara's jaw dropped and some of the color drained from her face.  
  
"What?" she gasped.  
  
Nick grinned deviously. "You thought I haven't noticed? You've mastered the casual workplace flirting, but I could use some entertainment."  
  
Sara felt the heat radiating from her face. Even for a makeshift sibling, Nick was way out of line.  
  
"What will you do?" she asked once she found her voice.  
  
Nick thought for a moment. "I'll sing the next time the whole nightshift is together."  
  
"Singing? That's it?" questioned Sara with disbelief.  
  
"I am tone-deaf," replied Nick sheepishly.  
  
Sara sighed. She'd gotten herself into a mess. If she backed out now, she'd never hear the end of it. The worst thing that could happen would be that she'd make a fool of herself, but Nick would get over it. She decided that the latter was the lesser of the two evils.  
  
She glared at Nick. His toothy grin had gone from Mischievous to innocent in record time.  
  
"I get to pick the song and who you sing it to," announced Sara with fake confidence.  
  
"Done," stated Nick. He was positive he couldn't lose.  
  
"And I get to practise before the game. Unlike you, I have more important things to do than sit around playing video games."  
  
"Of course you do! You have to try seducing Grissom while spending enough time with Hank to ease your conscience."  
  
Sara was at a loss for words. "Just teach me how to play the damn game."  
  
For the next fifteen minutes, Nick instructed Sara. Like everything else she'd ever tried, she mastered it to the point where Nick wasn't as cocky as he had been.  
  
The game was intense. Curses arose from the two professionals as they competed against each other. The game was close, but Nick's animated car crossed the finish line with Sara's right behind it. This was rewarded with a final curse from the female CSI.  
  
"Jeez, Sara, with a mouth like yours, you could've been a sailor," stated Nick who was grinning from ear to ear. "Let's go find Grissom."  
  
"Find me for what?" asked the newcomer.  
  
Sara was shocked. Of all the times Grissom could've entered, it had to be now.  
  
Nick nudged her with his elbow and she rose from the chair. She might as well get it over with.  
  
"I, um." started Sara as she spotted the folder she'd abandoned on the table. "I don't understand some of this paper work."  
  
With that she picked up the folder and frantically searched for something that she could seem clueless about, without making herself seem stupider than she'd feel. She finally pulled out a computer printout. It was rather lengthy -which was fine with her, as she'd have more time to complete her mission.  
  
Grissom sat at the table once Sara handed him the paper. Sara moved another chair beside her boss and sat down.  
  
"Now what?" she thought. "I'd better do something before he finishes reading."  
  
"Are you wearing cologne, Griss?"  
  
"No," he answered without diverting his gaze from the paper. "Maybe it's Nick."  
  
"Well you smell good nonetheless."  
  
Grissom was slightly taken aback by this, but did not show it. She smelled him? To his knowledge, no one had ever done that before. What did he smell like? He pretended to be immersed in the document and hoped that Sara would get to her point.  
  
Sara glanced over her shoulder at Nick who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.  
  
The female scientist turned her attention back to Grissom. She moved closer to him and placed her hand on his biceps.  
  
Grissom didn't seem to notice and was still reading.  
  
"Good God, how long is this going to last?" wondered Sara.  
  
"Shift's almost over, do you want to get breakfast?" asked Sara who hopped he'd say 'no', as she planned on murdering Nick after the potential witness left the room.  
  
"Sure," stated Grissom without looking up.  
  
Sara looked at Nick again. He was smiling and winked at Sara.  
  
Sara moved even closer, and rested her head on Grissom's shoulder. She then crossed her legs; intentionally brushing Grissom's while she tightened her grip on his upper arm.  
  
For this she received his attention. It took all Nick's discipline to keep from laughing.  
  
"Are you alright?" questioned Grissom as he studied the woman.  
  
"I'm fine," answered Sara as she raised her head, and let go of Grissom's arm.  
  
Sara pretended to listen while Grissom explained the paper to her. She could feel Nick's eyes boring into the back of her cranium.  
  
"Oh thanks, Griss," said Sara with a smile. "I understand now."  
  
The man returned Sara's smile with one that he reserved just for her. Something was definitely up with her. Not only had she smelled, kicked, and leaned on him, the paper explained itself. "I'll see you for breakfast."  
  
"I'll get my coat."  
  
Once Grissom had left the room, Nick burst into applause. "That was great, Sara! You chased the boredom right out of the lab!"  
  
Sara did her best not to smile. The bet had been worth it, as she now had plans with Grissom. "I'm glad I could entertain you."  
  
Sara reorganized the papers from when she ruffled through them, and turned to Nick. " The cliché is true, Nicky. It's not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game. See you tomorrow."  
  
"Bye, Sara."  
  
Nick waited until Sara was at the doorway before saying, "Have fun at breakfast!"  
  
Sara ignored Nick and left him alone in the break room.  
  
~*The End*~  
  
AN: If you're reading this, that means you made it to the end of my fic! Well what did you think? Please review! 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Same as the first chapter. I also don't own the song 'These arms of mine'. Although Christmas is coming!  
  
Author's Notes: I know the first chapter says 'The End' but all the wonderful reviews (hint, hint!) inspired me to continue. Enjoy!  
  
  
  
Grissom and Sara were greeted with distinctive music upon entering the small diner. The song wasn't nearly recent, but was the kind that was expected to be playing. Sara often went there; whether it was with her colleagues or alone. She particularly enjoyed being accompanied by Grissom, though. Not only did they receive better service from the waitresses, she enjoyed his company. She really clicked with him. They understood each other on a level that Sara had never thought to be possible.  
  
They walked through the small restaurant in search of a seat. Other people were there, but it wasn't crowded. A frazzled looking woman was there with twin babies. She was younger than Sara was; yet the criminalist was ready to bet that in two years unwanted gray hairs would be popping up among the blond ones.  
  
They sat across from each other at a booth near a window. The slight draft coming from the pane of glass convinced Sara to keep her jacket on. The two criminalists sat in silence; flipping through the menus that an overly perky waitress deposited at the table.  
  
It had been a few mere minutes before another waitress -older and larger than the first- came to take their orders.  
  
She eyed Grissom seductively. "What would you like?"  
  
"Whole-wheat toast, fruit, and a glass of milk, please."  
  
Sara fought the childish urge to roll her eyes. Health food. Grissom was so predictable.  
  
The waitress -who had 'Betsy' scrawled on her name tag- reluctantly tore her eyes away from the man and cast them upon Sara. "And you?" she asked curtly.  
  
"A bagel, please," she stated as she closed the laminated menu and put it on top of Grissom's. "With strawberry cream cheese and an orange juice."  
  
Betsy scratched the order on her notepad. She then gave Grissom one last hopeful gaze -which he avoided completely-, scooped up the menus, and left.  
  
Grissom glanced around the room before observing the old-fashioned jukebox in the corner. It was guilty of projecting the peculiar music.  
  
"Interesting selection," he commented before his attention returned to his colleague.  
  
"Otis Redding, 'These Arms of Mine'," she stated without hesitation.  
  
Grissom raised an eyebrow. "That's before your time."  
  
She smirked. "Not with my parents. I'm sure they still have all their old records."  
  
Grissom smiled curiously. "Did they play them often?"  
  
Sara nodded dramatically. "Long live the sixties."  
  
Grissom stared blankly, not knowing what she meant. For the first time, he realized he didn't know anything about her family.  
  
Betsy returned with their drinks, still inspecting Grissom. Once she had vanished yet again, Sara declared -almost sheepishly- "They were hippies."  
  
Had he heard her correctly? The workaholic, Harvard graduate, Sara Sidle, had been raised by ex-hippies? He didn't know what to say. He had never imagined Sara bringing up the topic of family, and in turn wasn't sure how to respond.  
  
The female CSI was shocked at what she had just done. She told Grissom, of all people, about her parents? Had Betsy laced her juice with some mind-altering chemical? Struggling on what to say next, she blurted out, "What were your parents?"  
  
"Where is she going with this?" wondered Grissom. He'd once told Catherine that his mother was deaf, but not about his family. To make things even more complicated, this was Sara. She was special. Was he ready to tell her? More importantly, did she actually want to know, or had she too, just been searching for something to say?  
  
Sara watched her companion closely. Was that nervousness he was trying to suppress? Had her simple question made him that uncomfortable? She was wishing it possible to go back in time and to never have asked when he answered.  
  
"My mother is deaf. She lost her hearing when I was a kid. Four, to be exact."  
  
What if she asked how she lost it? He couldn't say 'otosclerosis', because if Sara didn't already know about it, she'd research it and discover it was hereditary. Everything between them would change, and what little friendship he had with her would be over. What was their current relationship? It had definitely evolved beyond boss/employee. Grissom considered her a friend, but there was something beneath that. If he told her that he would eventually loose his hearing, he would loose what little chance he had with her. Who would want to be with someone who was 15 years their senior and deaf due to a condition that could be passed to any future children?  
  
He continued with his story. "I can't remember what my father did. He wasn't around much, and left us after hitting my mother. I was five."  
  
"I'm sorry," said Sara, studying the rim of her glass while tracing it with her index finger. "That must have been tough." She didn't know what else to say. Never had she expected Gil Grissom to open up that much to her.  
  
Betsy chose that awkward moment to reappear. At least their food was ready. She gracefully placed Grissom's plate in front of him, resorting to a sleazy looking smile. After her silent rejection, she disposed of the plate that bore Sara's bagel on the table.  
  
They ate in silence, the conversation piece still playing.  
  
The draft from the window was annoying Sara. Surely the management could afford to use the profits from their over-priced breakfasts to get it fixed.  
  
Finished her meal, and curious as to whether or not the window was cracked, she turned her attention to it.  
  
She nearly jumped out of her seat! Crouching on the other side of the pane, peering over the window ledge and between the partially parted curtains were Greg Sanders and Nick Stokes! Realizing they'd been discovered, the grown men leapt up, and ran out of the view of the window. Before they'd completely disappeared, Sara noticed that Nick was holding a Polaroid camera.  
  
If Nick had told Greg about their bet, half the lab probably knew by now. She could imagine the two men, gossiping like schoolgirls, after she had left the lab. Why had they felt the need to spy on her and make it a Kodak moment? It was just breakfast with Grissom.  
  
What if Griss found out that the reason she'd invited him was that she'd lost a bet? It wasn't the only reason, but it was the one that the gossip queens knew about. Just when Grissom had finally opened up and let her into a small part of his life, Nick and Greg had to be involved! What would Grissom do if he found out? She had to get that picture!  
  
Grissom Observed Sara. He had never been good at understanding human emotions, but her body language had changed. She was no longer relaxed. Her eyes were wide open and darting about as they scanned the scene outside. He could almost hear her brain working a million miles a minute.  
  
He pushed his empty plate aside. "Is everything alright?"  
  
Her gazed snapped from the window and back to him. "Fine," she answered with a forced smile.  
  
He raised an eyebrow. Now what should he do? He didn't want to pressure her. What ever had alerted her couldn't be that important, right? Surely she'd talk if it had been something urgent.  
  
"Are you ready to leave?" she asked.  
  
"Yes." Maybe she just remembered something she had to do? Something that couldn't wait?  
  
After each paying the bill, and leaving a tip for Betsy, of course, they left the diner. The crime lab was just a few blocks away, and they had taken Grissom's Tahoe.  
  
"I'll drive you back to the lab," offered Grissom as he unlocked the doors.  
  
"The lab?" thought Sara nervously. "How does he know I need to go back to see if Nick and Greg are still there? Did he see them? Does he know?"  
  
"Uh, the lab?" she questioned nonchalantly.  
  
"What is up with her?" "Your car is in the parking lot."  
  
Her mind gave a breath of relief. She had to get control over her paranoia, or she'd end up telling Grissom herself. "I'm fine. Walking, I mean. The lab's just over there." She couldn't let him see her enter the lab. As far as he knew, she was just going home. He'd notice her entering the lab and find it odd that she hadn't put in for overtime that day. He was a trained investigator, after all.  
  
"You're sure? I don't mind."  
  
"I'm sure. See you tonight."  
  
"Bye. I enjoyed eating with you."  
  
"It was great." She had to get that picture!  
  
When Grissom was in his vehicle, Sara started walking. Brisker than usual. What if the pranksters had already left?  
  
She ran up the cement steps and yanked open the door of the lab. The lobby was deserted. There were still a few hours before the dayshift started.  
  
Where to look first? She walked down the corridor, approaching the DNA lab. That would be a good place for the cohorts to hide out. It was usually deserted in between shifts.  
  
Unfortunately, that was the case today. Even though the lights were off, she opened the door to make sure they weren't hiding under the cover of the darkness. Greg's metal stool was sitting neatly behind the desk. A few of his CDs were stacked in the corner with the CD player. The computer on the desk was turned off and was surrounded by the vast amount of equipment, none of it being used at the moment.  
  
She closed the door and proceeded to the locker room. She burst through the door, hoping to catch them in the process of doing something sinister. The harsh fluorescent lights were on, but only illuminated an unoccupied room.  
  
She went to Greg's locker. The lab tech never bothered locking it; often joking that no one in his or her right mind would ever steal in a crime lab. Both his jacket and bag were missing. Damn it! They'd already left!  
  
Sighing dejectedly, she left the room and went out to her car. She'd just have to question them that night.  
  
Meanwhile, somewhere within the depths of the building, a young man was diligently working on the task at hand. It was a bit out of the ordinary, but not out of his league. He wouldn't be able to declare it as working overtime, since it wasn't work related. Not directly, anyway. But when he finished, Nick would owe him a favor. 


End file.
